


Chinese Restaurants, Mistletoe, and the Spanish Inquisition

by Mireille



Category: Sports Night
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-11
Updated: 2005-07-11
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mireille/pseuds/Mireille
Summary: Dan's next Secret Santa is going to have to work hard to top this year.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, I was supposed to write a Sports Night story for the 2004 Slash Advent Calendar. And then I had issues with the way it was being run, and I withdrew from the calendar. But I had the story half-done anyway, so I went ahead and finished it.

"It really doesn't bother you that we're the only two people in New York who have to work on Christmas." Casey wrote a few lines on the legal pad propped on his knee and then stopped to frown at them. 

"There are millions of people in this city, Casey. We aren't the only two working."

"Yeah?" Casey tore off the top sheet from his pad and crumpled it into a ball. "Who else has to work on Christmas?"

"Police? Firemen?"

"Special cases. They're always working." The ball of paper sailed across the room, bouncing off the rim of the trashcan and landing near Dan's feet. 

"Chinese restaurants," Dan said. He picked up the paper and threw it into the trashcan, ignoring Casey's scowl. 

"You're at a better angle." Casey wrote a few more lines before looking up at Dan again. "Chinese restaurants?"

"Chinese restaurants."

"Was that supposed to be meaningful, or was it some kind of weird word-association game?" 

"It's meaningful. Chinese restaurants are open on Christmas."

"So it's the two of us, and the staff of the Hunan Palace?" 

"Dana's working."

"All right, the three of us--"

"And Jeremy."

"Let me stop you before I start sounding like the Spanish Inquisition sketch. People who work here, emergency personnel, and Chinese restaurants have to work on Christmas. Sane, normal people do not." He paused, frowning. "Chinese restaurants, really?"

"Yes."

"How do you know that?"

Dan gave him a look. "It wasn't like Christmas was a big holiday at the Rydell house." Chinese restaurants on Christmas day, however, had been a tradition throughout a fair amount of his childhood.

"Oh. Yeah." Casey sighed. "So you don't even care that we have to work on Christmas."

"Not really, no," Dan admitted, turning back to the computer screen.

"Hm." Casey wrote a bit more. "Have you looked at the film from the Green Bay game?"

"Not yet. Want to go do that now?"

"In a minute." Casey wrote a few more lines before looking up again. "You do Secret Santa."

"What?"

"Every year. You do the office Secret Santa thing. You did it in Dallas, too."

Dan shrugged. "Yeah, of course I do."

"But it's the Secret Santa, not the Secret… Hanukkah Fairy, or whatever."

He couldn't help it; he just started laughing. " _Hanukkah Fairy_?" 

"Or whatever," Casey added, sounding just a little defensive.

"We don't have a Hanukkah Fairy," he said, still laughing. 

"You're changing the subject, Danny."

"I thought the subject was 'ways Casey was acting like a crazy man,' and this is still on topic." He shook his head. "Why are we even talking about this?"

"Because you do the Secret Santa thing, but you don't do Christmas."

"Speaking of Secret Santa, what are you getting me? Natalie told me you got my name."

"I have no idea. Anyway, why do you do the Secret Santa thing?"

"It's just an office thing. It's--well, no, it isn't fun, but it's just an office thing. It's not some kind of religious statement. It's just buying a present for someone I work with."

"What about Christmas trees?"

"What?"

"What about Christmas trees?" he repeated. "Do you do those? Because there was that Christmas in Dallas when you came over and helped Charlie and Lisa and me do the tree."

"That was because I was over at your house. And Charlie needed someone to lift him up so he could reach the high branches, anyway." _And you and Lisa were too busy fighting_ , he didn't add. It could go without saying, after all; Casey and Lisa had always spent a lot of time fighting about something. 

"Yeah. I guess you're right," was all Casey said, though from his expression, Dan wondered if he was remembering the same thing Dan had been. 

After that, Casey was quiet for long enough that Dan had started to think the conversation was over; he'd been able to work uninterrupted for long enough that the words were flowing in a comfortable rhythm. He was just rereading his lead-in to the remote from the Knicks game when Casey said something Dan didn't quite hear. "What?"

"I said, mistletoe."

"I thought that was what you said. Do you mind telling me why?" 

"We were talking about Christmas." 

"We were talking about Christmas ten minutes ago, and then you suddenly come up with 'mistletoe'? What is that, some sort of holiday Tourette's?"

"I was asking whether or not mistletoe was one of the Christmas things you did do."

Dan grinned. "That depends on who else is standing under it." 

"Good thinking," Casey said. It took a moment before he smiled back at Dan, though, and Dan wondered what weird Casey McCall train of thought he'd gone off on. There was absolutely no telling, although Dan was willing to bet that Dana figured into it somewhere. 

"You say that like it's something unusual."

Now Casey's answering grin was immediate. "Would I imply something like that?"

"Only because I'm better at trash-can basketball than you are," Dan said, grinning back smugly.

And then all talk of Christmas was forgotten while Casey made a feeble--in Dan's opinion, at least--attempt to defend his honor. Or at least his trash-can basketball skills. He might have had better luck with his honor, Dan thought, as he made a three-point shot from behind the desk, only gloating a little.

***

After that, he forgot about Christmas entirely--well, not that you _could_ forget about Christmas, not in December, but he forgot that he and Casey had been discussing it, until the morning that he came into the office to find that someone had been decorating for the holidays. 

That wasn't surprising; someone decorated the office every Christmas, after all. But this year the decorations included mistletoe, and Dan couldn't help but remember his conversation with Casey. 

_"That depends on who else is standing under it."_ If Casey, for example, were standing under the mistletoe…. He shook his head. He'd given up on that a long time ago--back in Dallas. Casey'd been married to Lisa, and he wasn't _entirely_ sure that Casey wasn't still in love with Dana, no matter how that had worked out, and Casey was the most completely heterosexual guy Dan knew, and that was that. There was nothing to be done about it, and Dan had managed to deal with that well enough. Casey was his best friend, and he was happy with that. 

Happy enough, anyway. He wondered what Abby would make of that--whether she'd tell him he was wasting time wanting something he couldn't have, or be impressed that he'd done a good job of accepting the circumstances. Not that he was going to tell Abby about this; it wasn't a problem. He was fine with it unless he was having a bad day in general. 

Today, he wasn't. Today, everything was decent with the world, and there was mistletoe hanging from the ceiling near his office. Natalie caught him on his way in, giving him a devilish grin and a quick peck; then Kim found him a bit later and kissed him a bit longer, and a day really couldn't be bad when that was how it started out. 

"Mistletoe, huh," Casey said, coming into the office just before noon--he'd had a dental appointment, Dan thought he remembered--after his own encounter with Natalie. "Whose idea was that?"

"No idea, but it hasn't been bad so far."

"Natalie?"

"And Kim."

"Ah. I didn't see her." Casey sat down and started to get to work. Dan settled back down to work himself, forgetting all about mistletoe, Christmas, or anything else except for the script they were working on. 

After the three o'clock rundown, the mistletoe had disappeared, but Dan didn't worry about it. It was still a good enough day. 

***

"I still can't believe we had to work on Christmas," Casey grumbled as Dan opened the door to his apartment. He'd just been about to go to bed, but he let Casey in anyway. Casey just turning up at his door at two a.m. suggested that he was going to be hard to get rid of. 

"You could have taken the day off," Dan suggested. "You have plenty of vacation time, don't you?"

"Lisa took Charlie to visit his grandparents, so I'm saving it." He grinned. "And that explains why I've come here seeking my Christmas cheer. Well, day-after-Christmas cheer, now."

"We're fresh out," Dan said. "I could get you a beer, though."

"Yeah. Thanks." Casey went over to sit down on the couch, leaning back with his hands behind his head. As Dan went out to the kitchen to get them a couple of beers, he called, "Mind if I turn on the TV?"

"Make yourself at home." He heard the sound of the TV, and when he came back with two cold bottles of beer, he saw that Casey was watching a replay of the Lakers game. 

"Portland wins," Dan pointed out. "We called the highlights tonight."

Casey shrugged. "It's that or an infomercial," he said, taking his beer from Dan. 

Dan sat down at the other end of the couch, and they sat there for a while, making the occasional comment about the game and drinking their beer. During the second quarter, Casey got up, disappearing down the hall to the bathroom and then, on his return, collecting their empty bottles and taking them out to the kitchen. He handed Dan a second beer and settled back down on the couch.

Dan was actually getting kind of tired, but it was okay; he let his eyes drift closed, because he knew how the game ended anyway, and just listened to the announcers and Casey's quiet remarks. He thought he might be falling asleep; everything seemed sort of unreal, except for the voices in the room and the cool surface of the bottle in his hand. 

And then the sound of the television stopped. "Game over?" Dan asked. Maybe he had fallen asleep after all. 

"Halftime," Casey said, and Dan opened his eyes. The television was still on, with the word "MUTE" glowing red in the lower left corner of the screen. And Casey was sitting up, looking at Dan and shifting rather uncomfortably on the couch. 

"What?"

Casey produced something from his pocket, and Dan had to rub his eyes before he could recognize what it was: a small sprig of mistletoe, much the worse for its ride in the pocket of Casey's jeans. 

"At the risk of repeating myself, what?" 

Casey shrugged a little; he was almost, but not quite, looking Dan in the eye. Then he grinned and said, "I'm sharing my holiday traditions with you."

Either this was a joke, or it wasn't, Dan thought, and wasn't _that_ profound. It was probably a joke, but he was pretty sure it wasn't a mean-spirited one, and so he grinned back, not even having to fake the laughter as he asked, "Casey? Why didn't you just kiss me if you wanted to?"

He expected Casey to laugh. He expected Casey to say something funny, and for the world to regain its equilibrium. What he didn't expect was for Casey to just look at him for a moment, and then say quietly, "Well, I'm doing it now."

What he really didn't expect was for Casey to lean forward and kiss him. Casey's lips were warm and dry and just a little chapped, and at first the kiss was just a light brush of those lips against Dan's. But when Dan didn't back away--when Dan, in fact, grinned against Casey's mouth before kissing him back, Casey parted his lips and started kissing him properly. 

Casey tasted a little of beer, and that was all right--in fact, the taste of beer-and-Casey was far better than the taste of actual beer, he decided, and when Dan's tongue slid against his, Casey made a very promising small noise that Dan immediately had to make him make again. And then Casey's arms were around him, and Dan had one hand on the back of Casey's neck, and Dan found that it was him making the noise now, and hoping Casey knew that it was encouragement. 

They pulled apart for a moment, just long enough to breathe, and Dan was relieved to find that Casey started kissing him again as soon as he'd got his breath. They were going to have to talk about this, Dan knew, as little as he wanted to _talk_ about any of this. But right now, Casey seemed perfectly content to go on kissing him. Dan shifted a little closer, as close as he could get without actually being in Casey's lap, and he felt Casey's hands move on his back, adjusting to the new position. 

When he opened his eyes for a moment, he could see the ballgame was starting up again. Not that it mattered; he already knew that Portland won, and Casey was kissing him, was letting himself be kissed by him, and if this was what WASP holiday traditions got you, Dan was ready to convert, right now. Or maybe Casey was right and there was a Hanukkah Fairy after all--and maybe he wasn't about to use that particular word in this circumstance, not until he knew how Casey would take it.

He wasn't about to jeopardize this, not while Casey was not-quite-biting at Dan's lower lip, and then kissing him again, deeply. Not while all his senses were filled with Casey: the way Casey's eyes had remained closed the entire time, even while Dan couldn't resist the urge to look at him, and the clean smell of Casey's skin--soap, and no aftershave, he thought; probably the lingering scents from when he'd cleaned up after the show--and the slight scrape of stubble against Dan's cheek; the taste of beer, fainter now, and the sound of Casey's rapid breathing, and Dan just wanted all of this to go on forever. 

And then, all too soon, it was over, and Casey was pulling away. Dan felt suddenly bereft, cold despite the fact that the heat was working perfectly well in his apartment; it was over. He might have known it couldn't last forever. 

Until the way he saw the way Casey was looking at him, and he let himself hope that in a way, at least, it just might. 

Casey grinned, suddenly, and then said, "In case you were wondering, this is your Secret Santa present."

Dan laughed. "It's a lot better than socks."

And then they both settled back onto the couch to watch the rest of the game--or at least, Casey did; Dan found his eyes closing again after only a few seconds. 

"C'mere," Casey said, putting his arm around Dan's shoulders, and after a moment's hesitation, Dan leaned against Casey, his head resting on Casey's chest.

He fell asleep that way, listening to Casey's heartbeat and his breathing and his futile encouragement of the Lakers, and just before he drifted off, he decided that whoever got his name in the Secret Santa draw next year was going to have a hell of a time topping this.


End file.
